


Drinking the Kool-Aid

by sandymg



Series: C2 barfight!verse [1]
Category: CW Network RPF
Genre: AU, C2, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-29
Updated: 2011-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-20 20:13:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandymg/pseuds/sandymg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chad gets in a bar brawl. Christian comes to his rescue. They save each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drinking the Kool-Aid

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** This is fiction. No harm intended. No profit made.

**He’s been staring** at the kid half the night. Which is pretty fucking strange because really the kid’s so not Christian’s type.  
   
A blond twink?  
   
C’mon. Never. He’d end up bruising him just trying to kiss him for chrissake. Kid would probably end up crying or some shit.  
   
He’s taller than Christian. Gotta be six feet at least. And, okay, that works. But he’s also just this side of too thin. Nothing to hang on to, you know. Longish pale yellow hair that looks like it shoulda come out of a bottle but somehow Christian knows it didn’t. LA sun lightened it up with smog beams. The kid tips some sort of pink drink up to his lips and motherfucking giggles.  
   
Christian really has to look elsewhere because this is ridiculous. The kid’s laughter can’t be as adorable as it sounds. He takes a quick gulp of his own drink. Scotch, thank you very much. It hits him that he actually let the word adorable float around his mind. Maybe it’s time to leave?  
   
He studies the friends the kid is sitting with. A tall guy with hair falling all over the place and another slightly shorter man falling all over the tall guy. Okay. So at least he’s not with one of them. Unless they all share. But … he takes in the way the other two pay more attention to each other than anything else – he doesn’t think that’s what’s going on.  
   
Deeper voices draw his attention away from the giddy group and Christian spots two men walking in together. They sway and talk too loud and clearly this isn’t their first bar of the night. The taller one, wearing tight leather pants, meets Christian’s eyes and looks him over greedily before his gaze rakes over the rest of the room. Christian watches as they land on the blond kid before a pink tongue snakes out and laps his lips hungrily.  
   
Something cold settles in Christian’s gut and all thoughts of leaving vanish.  
   
The pair come up to the bar to fetch drinks before disappearing around a corner to where he knows there are some pool tables. Christian thinks good riddance and quickly turns back to his night’s unusual entertainment. But the kid’s no longer at the table he was at before. His friends are still laughing softly leaning into each other and for a moment Christian has this absurd moment of wondering if he’s made up the guy. If he was ever there at all.  
   
“Yeah. You can.”  
   
The voice is pleasant. Not too deep, not too high, a soothing baritone that’s mischievous in tone. Christian turns very slowly to his left eyes locking with a pale blue stare. A subtle head flick moves a blond lock off the kid’s forehead. His lips are pink and plump and settled into a slight smirk. _Fuck_. Swallowing once, eyes as steady as a surgeon’s, he figures he can play along. “I can what, now?”  
   
Smooth as silk the kid blinks once, “Buy me a drink.”  
   
A smile tugs at Christian’s lips but he fights it. He points instead to the mostly done pink abomination in the other man’s hand. “I would … if you were drinking. _That’s_ not a drink.”  
   
The kid smiles now and his teeth are ridiculously straight and white. “Sure it is.”  
   
“Nah. It’s Kool-Aid, an’ ya only drink that when ya wanna kill yourself in a showy way.”  
   
“I got no reason to want to end things,” the kid argues back. “Like my life too much. Especially now.”  
   
Christian bites at the bait. “Something happenin’ now that’s making you all life-lovin’?” It is LA. Maybe the kid just got some role in a commercial? Or a modeling gig? Was pretty enough for it, after all.  
   
The look he gets back is almost too intense and for a moment it unnerves. “Now. You’re buying me a fresh Kool-Aid.”  
   
Before Christian can react the kid has motioned to the bartender and another pink concoction and scotch sit in front of them. Money is slapped down before Christian gets to object. He’s oddly thrown because … what? How exactly did things turn around quite this fast?  
   
“I’m Chad,” the kid tells him, eyes looking over his face in obvious question.  
   
Christian fights back an inner grin. Of course, his name is _Chad_.  
   
“Christian,” he replies before sipping at his new drink. It irks that the brat paid but he figures he’ll get the next round. If there is a next round.  
   
“Anyone call you Chris?” Chad asks, eyes still glued to his. He’s not used to this kind of confidence in someone so young. But upon a closer look he thinks maybe the kid isn’t quite as young as he looked from across the room. He’s just slight and animated.  
   
“Sometimes,” he answers truthfully.  
   
Chad absorbs this and Christian gets that his vagueness has left Chad unsure of whether he should feel free to shorten his name or not. He’s curious how this will go and dismisses the voice that says that it’s fun to play with the kid this way.  
   
“When?” Chad asks and finally drops his eyes slightly.  
   
“Not so much when as _where_ ,” Christian says pointedly and waits. His eyes are taking in the other man’s features, high cheekbones and strong chin. It’s a good face, he decides. And then Chad’s cheeks heat up and his eyes widen.  
   
“Ah,” he breathes out, bringing his drink’s straw to those pink lips. No fair, man. In seconds it feels like things have turned again and Christian feels his own face heat up. Dammit.  
   
Chad smiles at him. “You’re good.”  
   
“So I’ve been told.”  
   
The smile deepens and now Christian can make out the slightest of dimples. And for the second time in one really odd night the word adorable comes to mind. “That’s what I mean. Not everyone’s good at it, you know.”  
   
“Good at what?” Christian asks honestly puzzled because their half-phrased conversation is starting to leave him behind again.  
   
“Flirting.”  
   
The bluntness amuses and Christian can feel the crinkles forming by his eyes as a laugh escapes. “Is that what we’re doing?”  
   
“Got another name for it?”  
   
“Babysitting.”  
   
Chad frowns. “I’m not that young.”  
   
Christian is impressed that his enigmatic comment was interpreted correctly. It makes him laugh again. “What do you do, Chad?”  
   
He’s expecting something entertainment industry oriented. It’s what everyone does. So Chad’s quiet, “I’m a teacher” surprises the hell out of him.  
   
“Yeah? What grade?”  
   
“Kindergarten.” His eyes go soft. “Well, I’ll be starting in September. Just got the job.”  
   
“Yeah? Congratulations.”  
   
“Thanks. Always wanted to work with kids.”  
   
“Well that explains it,” Christian says with a smile. Chad raises his eyebrows and seems slightly wary but Christian merely points to the other man’s very pink drink. “Your love of Kool-Aid,” he clarifies.  
   
Chad laughs the giggle that Christian heard earlier. It’s causing this really odd fluttering in his stomach. “What about you?” Chad questions.  
   
“I’m in a band,” he replies, realizing that he sounds like a walking LA cliché. Except it really is his life. “We play around town mostly. Tour a little. Got some demos out. Same old.”  
   
“Yeah. What do you play?”  
   
The interest seems genuine and Chad’s back to peering at him intently. “Guitar. And I’m the lead singer.”  
   
“That’s so cool. I make dogs cry when I sing. That’s why I thought I’d better stick with younger grades. Kids wouldn’t hear me over their own chatter.”  
   
Christian chuckles. He thinks Chad’s speaking voice is nice enough but he knows that doesn’t always translate to singing ability. Still, probably the kid’s not as bad as he’s making himself out to be.  
   
“Maybe I can come hear you play sometime?” Chad says, straw back in his mouth. He’s working it with his teeth now and it’s really damn distracting.  
   
“Yeah. Maybe. Sometime.”  
   
Chad swings his head around. “Hey, this place has live music. Have you ever--?”  
   
“Next Saturday.”  
   
A hand reaches out and squeezes his bicep briefly. The grip is stronger than he would have expected. “Yeah? Cool. I’ll definitely be here, man.” Chad’s head tilts a little and Christian thinks he’s hesitating about something.  
   
“Spit it out, dude.”  
   
Chad shakes his head and blushes the sweetest shade of crimson. “Nah. You’ll think it’s gay.”  
   
Christian practically chokes on the drink he’d been about to swallow. His hand sweeps around the place. “Thought that was a given, dude.”  
   
The giggle returns. It does warm things to his insides, like someone’s turning the nob on an inner heating pad. “I meant … “ Chad takes a long sip of his drink. “I just thought for a minute that it would be cool to have a real musician come in and sing to my kids.”  
   
They say there are firsts for everything. Christian finds himself speechless. Kinda hasn’t happened before. A long moment passes where they just look at each other. It should be awkward, but it’s not. He blinks first because even though he knows he has to have a few years on Chad he’s suddenly feeling weirdly young. To bring himself back he runs his hand through his long hair. Been months since he’s trimmed it and it’s sitting on his shoulders now. His eyes land on Chad’s long fingers and he imagines them in his hair, running through it.  
   
He jumps off the barstool. “Gotta go.”  
   
Chad nods, face turning downward. “Right. I guess I’ll return to my friends.”  
   
“Or you could wait for me here.” Chad looks up quick. “I’m just heading to the john.” He’s met with a brilliant smile. It’s infectious and his own lips curl up. “I owe you a Kool-Aid, kid.”  
   
As he’s walking away he hears, “The non-suicidal kind. With an umbrella.”  
   
He knows he looks like an idiot smiling to himself as he pisses but what the hell, it’s been a smiley kind of night. And it’s been a long time since someone has surprised him as much as this … young man has.  
   
The bar’s filled up to its peak capacity as Christian works his way out of the men’s room. The corridor is lined with guys making out and heat curls in his belly as he wonders how this night will end. Keeping his eyes straight he works his way forward, looking to get back to the fun conversation they had going and maybe learn more about the blond schoolteacher.  
   
The very last thing he expects is to see Chad no longer alone at the bar. A figure hovers way too fucking close and ice starts flowing in Christian’s veins. He shoves aside slushy bodies to get closer. A shout breaks through the persistent din, clear and sharp and angry.  
   
“I said don’t touch me!”  
   
Things swirl again and Christian heats up as if someone splashed him with acid. Because. What the fuck? The man too close to Chad stumbles back and it’s clear he was shoved. The asshole’s buddy, who Christian just now notices, steadies his friend and reaches out to hold Chad in place. The unmistakable thud of a fist connecting reaches Christian. 

And that’s fucking _it_. He leaps until he’s standing between Chad and the asshole who dared to strike him, blood buzzing through his skin like an angry swarm of insects. It takes a second to recognize the two dudes as the ones that entered earlier. Only now they are even more drunk and more mean and he ducks fast before Leather Pant’s fist connects. His own fist draws tight and lands a sideways pass on Leather Pant’s cheek. 

“This ain’t your problem,” the second man mutters, putting an arm out to separate them. “That little shit hit my buddy.”  
   
But Christian had seen it all and even if he hadn’t, he knew the school teacher wasn’t about to hit anyone unprovoked. Which makes the anger already pulsing through his body skyrocket to nuclear.  
   
Leather Pants ignores the attempt at peacemaking and Christian is seized in a meaty grip, so he wriggles to get free before his arms are pinioned, jabbing forcefully with his elbow. The hold on him releases as his attacker clutches his sternum, but the motion propels Christian forward and he’s just not fast enough to block the punch from the asshole’s friend. His chin snaps back and he braces for another blow when a blur pushes the man away before he can lay a hand on Christian again.  
   
A simultaneous grunt sounds as Chad and the bigger guy land on the ground in a twisted heap. Christian regains his footing and sees out of the corner of his eye that the sonovabitch who’d hit Chad is being subdued by two of the bar’s bouncers. Chad is rolling on the floor holding his own, but the other dude is livid. Christian shoves Chad aside as fast as he can and ends up straddling the guy. He throws all his weight into one punch to the jaw and watches the dude’s head roll to the side. Arms are gripping him tight and pulling him up and he recognizes the bartender, a friend.  
   
“You okay?”  
   
He brushes the concern away, eyes scanning for the teacher. The staff has descended upon the two drunk jerks and they’re being escorted out. After an anxious moment he spots the beacon of soft yellow hair back with the two friends Chad entered with, but Chad’s head is shifting around and stops only when their eyes meet.  
   
Christian approaches slowly, chin throbbing from where the guy connected. He eyes Chad’s companions from up close. He can’t peg what the tall one does, but the shorter one figures to be a male model. Hell, maybe they are both models. This is LA after all. But after that first glance all he sees is Chad and the bright red bloom spreading across his pale cheek.  
   
“Shit. Let’s get you some ice.” He takes Chad’s hand and starts leading him away without a word to the other two.  
   
“Chad,” the taller one calls out brow rising in confusion.  
   
A slight shudder travels from Chad’s hand to Christian’s and he instinctively puts an arm around the other man and absorbs his shivers. Wet blue eyes meet his and Christian drinks his fill before turning back and saying, “I got ‘im.”  
   
After a moment Chad calls behind them. “Jay. It’s okay.”  
   
Christian assumes the other two go away. The bartender hands them two bags of ice and he guides Chad into a quiet booth before following him in. He ignores his own ice bag and holds Chad’s to his cheek. Chad flinches a little upon contact but then allows it.  
   
“So … “ Christian begins although he has nothing to actually say.  
   
Chad’s hand cups the back of his holding the ice to his face before dropping back to the table. “It’s okay,” he says softly. “He didn’t get me so hard.”  
   
Christian lowers the ice to examine Chad’s face. It’s red but not too swollen and Christian figures he’ll be fine. He holds the ice to his own throbbing jaw a few moments.  
   
“So … “ Chad parrots, catching Christian’s eyes with his own. “That was my first bar fight.”  
   
It’s said with such earnestness that Christian can’t help but smile slightly. “Yeah? Not bad for a first timer.”  
   
“You think?”  
   
The mischief is back in Chad’s tone and Christian feels his heart speed up. “Nothing broken. I’d call it a draw.”  
   
Chad pouts. “Not a win?”  
   
Christian pretends to look Chad over with pursed lips. “Nope. No blood. No win.”  
   
Chad smiles but it doesn’t last long and Christian sees the events wash over the younger man. “I can usually handle them. Even if they get pushy. This guy though, wouldn’t quit.”  
   
“He touched you?” Christian fights the darkness but knows it has to show.  
   
He’s met with the surest stare he’s ever seen. “I didn’t want him to.”  
   
Christian nods. “I’m sorry I didn’t get back sooner.”  
   
“But you came back.”  
   
They are quiet a long moment and Christian wonders how long the adrenaline is going to keep coursing through his bloodstream like wildfire, making his heart feel like it wants out of his chest. Breathing deeply he blinks and drops that unwavering gaze.  
   
“Sure … owed you a drink, right?”  
   
Chad offers up a small smile but his hand comes out to cover his. “Chris.”  
   
He sees _thanks_ in Chad’s eyes. And something else. It’s new and scary and the real word he’s looking for is irresistible but he won’t let himself think that. Instead, he smirks, “Hey now … we’re not _there_ yet for you to be callin’ me Chris.”  
   
Chad’s eyes narrow and his smile brightens and the crazy fight suddenly seems really long ago. “But we’re heading there soon, right?”  
   
He looks down realizing that Chad’s hand is still covering his before bringing his eyes back and locking on the goddamn prettiest shade of blue he’s ever seen. Smiling he rises, taking in Chad’s slight surprise. “Just gonna get you that Kool-Aid, kid.”  
   
Then, before he can talk himself out of it he leans in to brush his lips against Chad’s. They are as sweet as they look and Christian decides that if pink drinks cause this then maybe they aren’t all bad. “Real soon,” he whispers into Chad’s mouth, spinning around quick to keep his promise and riding the bounce of Chad’s giggle all the way back to the bar. 

 _  
**fin**   
_

**Author's Note:**

> beta: borgmama1of5


End file.
